I remained but a few moments with Major Parr and Captain Simpson; a rifleman of my own company, Harry Kent, brought me my pack and rifle — merely sufficient ammunition and a few necessaries — for we were to travel lightly. Then Captain Simpson went away to inspect the Oneida scouts.

“I wish you well,” said the Major quietly. “Guard the Mohican as you would the apple of your eye, and — God go with you, Euan Loskiel.”

I saluted, turned squarely, and walked out across the parade to the postern. Here I saw Captain Simpson inspecting the four guides, one of whom, to me, seemed unnecessarily burdened with hunting shirt and blanket.

Running my eye along their file, where they stood in the uncertain torchlight, I saw